Archive: Please ask first
Summary: Rodney and Carson get a little nosey about what's going happening on someone's computer and find out a little more than they want to know.
Spoilers: None, other than silliness
Sequel/Season: Season One
Authors Note: I want to thank tehshroom. This is all her fault. ;-)
I don't own them, Gecko and Scifi does. I'm just borrowing them for while and promise to give them back when I'm done, though I might just keep Rodney for little longer ;-)
That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles
Rodney stared intently at Carson as the physician peeked around the edge of the door.
"What's she doing?" Rodney whispered impatiently.
"Typing," Carson said, squinting a bit.
"Duh, I could hear that, but what is she typing?"
Carson leaned out a bit more, still squinting. "I can make out...large.....hands....beaten....cut."
Rodney groaned and slumped back against the back of the closet they were hiding in. "I'm a dead man."
Carson sighed. "You don't know she's writing about you."
Rodney looked at him. "Large. Hands. Beaten. Cut. What do you think?"
Carson blew out a breath. "Aye."
"She could be picking on the Major for once," Rodney said hopefully.
Carson looked over at him and he just sighed again.
"Ya know, we've got to distract the girl from this obsession of hers. I can understand wanting to find out what makes you tick, but we've got to find her a less traumatizing way of doing it."
"Why does she want to know what makes me tick?" Rodney responded his voice raising a bit in panic. "Why can't she find out why Sheppard ticks or Ford or you?"
It was Carson's turn to look a bit panicked. "Not let's not be so hasty."
"Ha!" Rodney shot back. "Shoe's on the other foot now, isn't it?"
The Scottish Doctor glared at him and then struggled to school his expression into something a bit more sympathetic. "Look, it could be worse. You know she won't kill ya and ya do, usually, end up back in one piece when she's done."
"Yeah, one broken, bleeding piece after you've stitched and glued all the pieces back together."
"True enough," Carson conceded.
The typing in the next room stopped and the lights flicked off. Rodney got to his feet cautiously and he and Carson peeked around the door.
"She's gone," Carson said quietly.
Rodney pushed passed him and over to the computer. He sat down and jiggled the mouse to get the screen to come back on. He started poking through the most recent documents. He called up the one that had just been opened and stared at it in frank shock.
"What?" Carson demanded.
"Cookies," Rodney said.
"She had you tossing your cookies? I'm not cleaning that up," the Scott declared, crossing his arms across his chest.
Rodney shot him a discussed look and shifted so Carson could see the monitor. "She's typing up cookie recipes." He scrolled the page down to page with bright Christmas clipart decorating the text. "'Dump mix into a *large* bowl. You will need to use your *hands* to mix. Add ½ cup butter, ¾ cup molasses, and one slightly *beaten* egg'." He skipped down. "'Roll out dough and *cut* into shapes'."
He leaned back in relief. "She's making recipe cards for gifts. I'm safe." He read some more. "And I'm hungry. I wonder if she has any of those Stargate cookies she made left," he said, pushing way from the computer and heading down the hall.
Carson shook his head and took Rodney's place at the computer checking through some other files. "Oh, my," he said as he read. He gave quick glance down the hall in the direction Rodney had gone and then went back to reading. "Holy crap!" He closed things down and shook his head. "I think I need some of those cookies too. Looks like I'm going to be busy. Very busy."